Orange and Blue, I like you
by Aiko-akita
Summary: Kenny never really took interest in Cartmans ex boyfriend until now... Bunny
1. Bad time for Coffee

**Bunnnnyyyy 3333 I decided I love it so much more than Twenny xD**

_Shit I'm late, shit I'm late, shit I'm late! Why can't I afford a car?_

_That's why you're getting a job smartass!_

God I hate job interviews. I always feel like my dirty white dress shirt and kind of tattered slacks aren't very convincing and that my will to flirt with every girl who walks my way is probably easily seen. I can't count how many interviews I've gone to and failed horribly, so now I'm running at top speed down my block, praying that I can make a good impression just this once even if I'll be sweaty and my clothes stick to my skin. Stupid parents out at their bare-ly-making-enough-money-to-scrape-by-jobs. If they were here, they could just drive me…

Each step, my feet feel like they're about to tangle. Fuck, fuck, I have to make this on time! I _need _a-

"Oof!" Fantastic. Of course I'm stupid me, Kenny McCormick, running blindly around a corner. I stumble back a few steps after smacking head on into another seventeen-year-olds body, and look down to see… Butters?

"Ah!" he hisses, looking down with tear filled eyes at the large brown coffee stain on his shirt. It was steaming hot- probably a bad sign.

"Shit!" I hold out a hand to him and help him up. "Sorry Butters-" how long has it been since I've actually talked to this kid? I mean, he and Eric had been dating for months but I never really saw either of them since they'd started. God he looks girly…"-are you okay?" _Obviously not Kenny, you just made him spill steaming hot coffee all over himself… _He takes his long, slender fingers and pinches the edges of his baby blue shirt, peeling it from his skin with a hiss. Jesus that looked painful…

"I-I'm fine," he says sheepishly. I feel guilt weigh me down as he obviously tries to fight back the tears of pain. I took my own hand and lifted up his shirt. A bright red blotch on his stomach matched the one on his shirt… Fuck my life! Shoving my interview aside, I took his arm in my hand. The least I could do was get the poor kid cleaned up before he would probably have to go to a hospital…

"Come on dude- I'll walk you to my house a block away."

"T-Thanks Kenny," he chokes out, unable to tear his sea-green eyes away from his burnt abdomen. The walk back to my shitty shit hole shit house is brisk, and I could only hope that the brisk Colorado wind is numbing the burn a little bit. Fuck I feel like an asshole… I hurried him inside and into my room, a little embarrassed at its state. Clothes and personal belongs were strewn in layers over my floor, shitty neon beer slights hanging on my wall, appearing just as foggy, colored glass when unplugged.

"Here dude- let me grab you a shirt," he takes a seat on my twin bed, still trying hard not to sob in pain as he sniffles and wipes the tears. His eyes are red and puffy with pain now as I dig up a white v neck and hurry it over to him. He takes it from me in his delicate, girly fingers, now red as well. When he lifts his shirt again, I can see his burnt abdomen spotted in small, white blisters. "Uh, do you want me to call a cab for the hospital?" I ask guiltily. He looks at me with sweet, sea-green eyes and forces a painful smile.

"N-no thanks. My parents would see the bill a-and ground me." His voice made me laugh- inappropriate timing… Trying to hide my embarrassment, I head out the door to the bathroom. _God he looks different… That's so weird! _Ok let's see here… Cough medicine… Cold medicine… Um, suspicious looking tablets… there we go! Burn ointment. I remember when my parents first started buying it among other pain killing crap when I started to die all the time. Good thing it has a use now!

Walking back, I saw that he had left the clean shirt lifted well above the burn and was now focusing on taking deep, calming breathes, slowly able to control his tears- though I was sure it was painful as hell… "Do you want ice dude?"

"N-no thanks, the ice just gives me freezer b-burn, and makes it worse!" Ok, don't laugh at him Kenny.

"Here," I sit beside him and hand him the ointment. He looked at it, then slowly looked at me with pleading eyes… Oh god. "What?" I ask curiously.

"I'm sorry Kenny but… I'm too s-scared! C-can you please put it on f-for me?" He sheepishly holds the tube out again. God damnit it Butters, don't go all fag on me… Trying not to be the weird douche bag I usually am, I take the ointment and apply it generously, trying to use such a thick layer that my hands wouldn't touch him make it more painful and… gay. So… silence… I'm rubbing cream on Butters… Please talk, one of us. Just think of something… Maybe something like-

"So how are you and Cartman?" Just trying to make casual conversation.

"Oh, w-we broke up last night… You know, five month anniversary I guess..." …

"Oh my god… I'm such an asshole dude. First I drench you in hot coffee then I just open my fat mouth and make it worse." As I speak, I'm relieved to hear his girly giggle and know that he wasn't completely in pain, though the movement in his abs from laughing probably seared…

"Yeah, he dumped me cuz I didn't really like him anymore I guess. He was real mean to me…" I knew I shouldn't have laughed, but I did.

"Yep, sounds like Eric…" I looked up, finally done covering his burn. But he's looking at me with those foggy green eyes that remind me with of the sea with something more than gratitude- warmth, softness… I'd never really seen him looking at me like that. Well, I had, but I'd never taken note of it before. I've seen girls look at me that way… and for a moment, I just stared back at him, wondering what I should do and feeling my heart skip like when I little girl notices a boy looking at her. I was panicking for just a moment- _Oh my god he's looking at me and he looks like he likes me, oh fuck, what do I do now? _

"Oh- er- uh, thanks Kenny," he smiles weakly with his girly face. I returned it-

"No problem Butters. You should probably just let that dry over it… Go ahead and sleep in my bed for a bit. Sleep help repairs skin tissue I learned- I'll wake you up in an hour to go home." He smiles at me again sheepishly, pink just barely brushing past his cheeks.

"Thanks Kenny…"

"No problem Butters," I smile and walk out, listening to the door click behind me. Oh god… What did I just myself into?


	2. Winter winds

I hate how crowded the school hallways are. It's like, seriously? You couldn't have just made this high school a little bigger? What did they expect? Of course, through the mass of shoving and squirming bodies I never really saw Cartman shoving his way towards me until he had already slammed me into a locker.

"Ow- what the fuck Cartman?" I growled, narrowing my blue eyes at his fat face, warning him to get the fuck off of me. But his hazel, beady eyes only glare right back at me as his annoying, scratchy voice echoes in my ears.

"What the hell did you do to my boyfriend you asshole?"

"Get the fuck off of me!" Hissing angrily, I shoved my arms out, thrusting him into some kid behind him. "What the hell are you talking about anyways?"

"Butters, dickhead!" Jesus Christ, here we go. "His stomach is one huge burn! What the fuck did you do?"

"It was an accident- besides, you two broke up anyways didn't you?" No my voice is less rage and more smug agitation, a laced minefield just daring him to push me further as I brush myself off and glare daggers at the pig.

"That was just a temporary thing," those beady eyes almost roll back in his head and for a moment I wonder how some fat douche bag like Cartman managed to get a nice, girly guy like Butters to follow him around like a dog. I returned the sarcastic eye gesture, approaching him again with strong confidence.

"Didn't seem like that to me," I growled, narrowing my eyes. Usually, Cartman gets along with me more than the other guys. We share a sense of humor and usually the only times I can't stand him is when he's being a shallow dick or a crybaby. Lucky for us both, the halls were emptying as class time rolled closer.

"Shut up Kenny, you don't know him like I do!" Out of the corner of my eye, I see platinum blonde hair. Eric sees it too for both of our heads turn at the same time. "Butters," Eric barks, waving him over. "Kenny's the one who threw coffee out you right?" I watched him clutch his books to his upper chest, walking over in a timid way.

"W-well he didn't really _thr_-" Before he could finish, Cartman's beefy arm lashed out and grabbed the bottom of Butters' shirt- which I now recognize as the one I lent him- and lifts it up. Holy Jesus… One weekend and the skin has gone from red to a thick, slightly opaque yellowish-red layer of flesh, cracked and peeling in some placing and blistering in others.

"Oh my god.. Butters, I… I'm _so _sorry! I really didn't mean-"

"It's fine Kenny, really," there it was again. That shy, fawn like smile with distantly affectionate green eyes. I cocked my head at it just slightly as Eric looked back and forth between he and I…. Aw shit.

"You little asshole!" Cartman yells suddenly, lashing out at Butters and causing him to drop his books. Conveniently, they land on Eric's foot. I can't help it, I have to laugh as he grabs his foot in pain. The fountain works begin, as they always do when Eric gets something even as minor as a paper cut.

"I-I'm sorry Eric!" Butters says, reaching out to help Cartman who only smacks his arm away.

"_GET AWAY FROM ME YOU SHITFUCKDICKFUCKINGASSHOLE LEAVING ME FOR KENNY!"_

"B-but Eric, you dumped me!" Suddenly, I was unable to stand the desperation in Butters' voice, the serenity so broken by Cartman being a fat ass. Oddly out of character for me, I walk briskly over and gather his things in one of my arms, grabbing his wrist with my other and leading him away from the screaming, crying blob we all knew as Cartman. I can hear him sniffling behind me, so I tug him closer to me and slow down enough for him to keep up. I wrap my free arm around his belongings, trying not to make it awkward with physical contact, not that Cartman hadn't just announced that Butters was in love me or anything like that…

"Where's your first class? I'll walk you," I say, trying to sound less aggravated and more soothing. He sniffles again and his voice comes out creaky and timid again, but in that funny accent sort of thing he has.

"This is gonna sound stupid but… Can we just ditch? My burn hurts an-and I don't wanna deal with all the fellas…" I understood what he meant- Stan, Kyle, Token and the others would probably badger him about all this. Knowing Cartman he probably already told all of them how I angrily threw my coffee at him and punched him in the face. So I just nodded, leading him through the now empty hallways out into the parking lot in the front and turning to walk to my house, just a few blocks away, when it occurs to me-

"My house or yours?"

"Yours is fine," he smiles, looking ahead instead of meeting my gaze, but I can see the rosy color brush his cheeks again and I can't help but wonder if it'd just because of the winter winds…


	3. I Like You Better Close Up

Butters is using my shower. At first I hear him letting out hissing gasps of pain as warm water drummed over his severe burns, but it seems like now he's gotten used to it and I simply hear the soft, light tune of his humming. I'm on my small bed; hands tied behind me head as my blue eyes search the ceiling. I'm waiting, not for Butters, but for Cartman. Waiting for him to notice that Butters and I are not at lunch, that I am not in his fifth period and Butters is not in his sixth even though we were both there this morning. Waiting for his text, or multiple texts, about what an asshole I was. But it was no surprise that Kyle's text came first. I picked up my old school flip phone and opened it.

_Dude, Cartman is pissed and the guys and I are positive he's lying about the shit he's spreading. What's up?_

Usually, I'm the kind of guy to just explain what really happened, but for some reason, I feel offended. A tiny drop of anger stings me as I read the message again. Why does Kyle feel he has the right to know? What could he possibly discern from my stories of me standing up for the awkward Leopold, how I noticed those blushing cheeks and affectionate eyes? I hadn't ever untangled it all myself. So I simply cast my phone aside, knowing that I'd still be tempted to pick it up and answer within ten minutes, but for now, the sound of the bathroom door opening draws all of my attention. I look to my right as the door creaks open and a very shy Butters peeks out. I wave him in with a careless gesture and he enters, one hand holding up a towel and the other clutching his clothes to his chest, slivers of his horrid stomach showing through.

"Uh, need clothes?" I ask, trying not to make it awkward. Why is everything so unsure with him? _Because he's gay for you._

_…. Shut up Kenny._

"Yeah, if it's no big deal…"

"'Course not," I answer, rolling off to my left and yanking open my crappy dresser, the same one I've had since I was 9. I toss to him a pair of skinny jeans, hoping they will be small enough for his girly figure, and another one of my T-shirts. "How's your burn?"

"B-better, thanks," I can feel his shy, caring smile burning into my cheeks as he watches me to look at him but I don't turn to meet his gaze. He takes the clothes I have tossed to him and walks out to the bathroom again, gazing at me through the corners of his ocean eyes. When I hear the door click behind him I run my fingers through my dirty blonde hair, standing up and leaning my side against the wall to my right. I know my cheeks are burning. I know sweat is starting to form and drip down my face. I know my heart is starting to get faster. What I don't know is why. I'm flustered, shy, confused and irritated all at once; at Cartman, at Kyle, at myself. I know I can't just pretend I Butters isn't hitting on me; I can't just shove into my closet hoping no one will ever turn the doorknob. But what am I supposed to do? I can't tell if I like him like a friend, an acquaintance or a… Cartman would never talk to me again, but I guess that wouldn't really matter. It's not like he was the closest friend I'd ever had.- in fact, I'd never really had that. Stan and Kyle always had each other; Craig and Tweek; Token and Clyde; Jimmy and Timmy. Someone to share their secrets and worries, and even though I had many friends, none of them took the time to ask me everyday how I was, how I had been, what I was going through. Just invite me to parties, ask if I want a smoke, tell me that Lexus from Raisins was trying to go after me, pushing me to go flirt with that cute girl over there even though I wasn't in the mood or I knew she was a slut. I wondered suddenly how things had gone from realizing Butters had feeling for me, feelings he may have had for god knows how long, to the realization of how lonely I was.

The door opened again and this time, Butters was staring at me so intensely that I was sure he was going to leap over the bed and onto me. I couldn't look away from his eyes; they were so fearfully forcing courage. I could see how he was trying so hard not to break contact, see how he struggled to shove the words from his mouth, but after a pause, his head just ducked down again and his face was a darker pink than I had ever seen it.

"Hey Butters…" His head snapped back up at me, eyes glinting hopefully. I could feel myself pull back the tiniest bit at this hope before speaking again. "Uh, is there something you want to tell me?"

"Just…" _Come on. Anytime now… Oh god come on don't cry under the pressure, butters._ But he doesn't- he just smiles again, hi eyes soft with light and warmth. "Thanks, Kenny. It's nice to have someone that's nice to me." My earlier thoughts of being lonely suddenly seemed so meager as I realized the only kid in school who probably ever talked to Butters often was Cartman… I would rather have been alone. So I smile back, unaware of how it mirrors his own, how my face is slowly brushed with the same shade of rose.

"No problem, dude," and for a moment we are stuck like that, both smiling at each other like a pair of crushes smiling shyly from across the room, and before I know it, his hair is buried into my chest with his skinny arms wrapped tight around me waist. Tears spill down my cheeks as he sobs into me, clutching to me like a little girl would hold tight a doll in a time of distress. I wrap my own arms around him, pulling him into me for comfort and burying my face into clean, damp blonde. "I'm sorry," I say gently, unsure why exactly I am crying with him, though it is usually a thing for me to cry when I see others in tears. Thinking of nothing better to say, I blurt out "Cartman's a fat fuck and everyone hates him."

"You must think I'm such a baby," he chokes out miserably, still clutching to my orange hoodie. I remove one hand from his back and grip his hair, softly rubbing my fingertips over his scalp like my mother used to do to me when I clang to her and cried.

"Not at all," his body has stopped its bawling shudders already as he steadies his breathe. I become aware of how he straightens up now, his head in the crook of my shoulder, soft lips brushing my neck. A bolt of electricity shoots through me and I know my heart is racing even though Butters would never dare to press his mouth to my skin. So instead I hold him, at the same time desperately trying to steady my swirling thoughts.


End file.
